


Hannibal’s Little Kitty Cat

by awalkinthepark



Category: Hannibal (Alternate Universe), Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Mythology
Genre: Cannibalism, Chaos, Dismemberment, Feral!Will, Frottage, Gore, Gory violent aftermaths ..., Hannibal AU, Hannibal is smitten, Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper, Kidnapping, Kinda, M/M, No bets we die like cheese, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Sex and death: never was there such a potent combination, Smut, Supernatural Elements, Will is barely not a kitten, blood and gore as lube, cat-type fluff, is it cannibalism if the animal eats people? but is only human three days in the month, raw meat consumption, the food is people, were and messy!! (No that is not a typo)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29975718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awalkinthepark/pseuds/awalkinthepark
Summary: (aka Will the curly-haired alley cat)And Hannibal the unsuspecting homeowner!(I know, I know, I need to learn how to finish a fic. But this plot bunny wouldn’t leave me alone until I typed. And then I had another idea, and so on.)Ta-dah! Will is a were-kitty, but only becomes human for the three days of the full moon. Will loves winding himself around Hannibal’s ankles while he makes food in the kitchen. Of course he loves every rich and tasty item that he cooks, especially the organ meats!
Relationships: Brian Zeller/Freddie Lounds (F), Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 51
Kudos: 137





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maydei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydei/gifts).



Hannibal finds himself taken in by a filthy stray adolescent cat that he finds shivering on his front doorstep one night after returning late from the opera. After bathing, warming, and feeding the little wretch, he finds the little wiggler scrunched up on his shoulder after he climbed up his biceps and snuggled his face into Hannibal’s neck. The little cat wastes no time in scent-marking him but he can’t seem to resist its advances.

The loud purring penetrates his torso and affects him peculiarly, making him break his rule about having animals in the house, abandoning the new cardboard box with the old towel he had prepared in the garage for the small but lithe cat. He sleeps with his nose in the short hairs on Hannibal’s neck, his own curly fur tips tickling Hannibal’s face. The purring soothes something in Hannibal’s head that he didn’t know needed soothing.

The next night, the cat, now named Will for his willful behaviour, kneads his fore-claws into his bare shoulder but pulls back just short of puncturing his skin. Hannibal installs a fancy wooden scratching post right outside the cat door the next day. 

Will is very curious, and explores everywhere inside and out, especially after Hannibal installed the cat door and an outdoor litter box. Will uses it, which seems odd for a stray to do. Maybe he used to have a home and got lost somehow? Hannibal did check for lost pet notices in person, at the vet, and online but did not see anything relating to such an unique specimen as his little Will.

...

Very near the next full moon, Hannibal is out most of the night and Will becomes anxious, racing around the house. Will smells something different on him when he gets home, something delicious. There is a cooler with ice and meat in it in Hannibal’s arms. Will won’t leave him alone. 

Almost tripping on Will while entering the pantry, Hannibal doesn’t notice him hiding in the shadows under the prep table, winding about one of the back legs and shivering his upright tail with excitement. Hannibal closes and locks the outside pantry door and opens the trapdoor to the hidden basement, opened by a flush pull ring set into the floor. There are six rings set seemingly decoratively into the floor at regular intervals but only one pulls the trapdoor open. Will’s eyes widen at this human’s attempts at subterfuge.

As Hannibal descends into the basement, one arm cradling the cooler of Will’s favourite, organ meats, he leaves the trap open. As he recedes into the distance, Will shoots down the steep wooden stairs after him. Quiet cat paws feel cold on the cement floor, and especially on the metal floor drain. Will takes in the overhead winch, the transparent plastic curtains, the steel tables, and freezer/fridge unit. And the large rack of knives in many shapes. He realizes he is in an abattoir and then licks his chops. 

He was shooed out of the last one but not before someone gave him a taste. It was nighttime and some humans were doing something very painful to another human, removing their parts, one by one, while the one chained up struggled and cried, big salty drops of two kinds splattering onto the floor around them. One jokingly threw Will a piece. He ate it all up, licking his lips and whiskers and teeth free of blood and more solid bits. It was the most satisfying meal the young cat had ever eaten. 

And for three days around every full moon after that meal, Will turned into a human person. The first time it happened, he woke up naked and cold and shivering in a person suit in his hidey hole. He’d had to break through the wooden plywood with his big and now-blunted finger tips, because the hole in the corner of it that had fit his kitty self just fine was now too small for him to escape, he’d grown so big! 

Licking himself and his injuries afterwards just didn’t feel right and there were humans on the street that ran away when he approached. He was even more rejected by people than when he’d fallen in that puddle of muck from from the garbage truck that one time and couldn’t stand to lick himself clean until he’d thrown himself off the nearby dock in desperation, clawing his way back up the creosote dock pilings after the seawater had done its job. It had taken two more days of standing in the rain shivering and rolling around in green and dry patches of tall grasses on the abandoned lots to get the lingering scents off of himself. 

Eventually, he understood that people wore clothes and that nude humans were shunned (at least on the streets; not so much in buildings, as he also discovered, after some rough sexual handling later). He really didn’t like clothes but sometimes had to get some to stay safe and find things to eat for those three days. But he was always so hungry during those people days, and he could never feel satisfied, no matter what he ate. He always stayed lean, no matter how much he ate in either form.

His mind snapping back to the hidden basement, Will ran up to his person and put his claws into the back of one of Hannibal’s knees but they made a weird plastic scrunching noise before he felt Hannibal shudder in response and look down. He was surprised to see the little cat looking at him with such naked hunger in his big blue-green eyes. His clear plastic murder suit had saved his clothes from more picks from Will’s claws but that was not what was on his mind.

“Will! How did you get down here? You little minx! Daddy will feed you in due time but this trip to the market takes a little extra preparation and care.”

He scooped Will up into his arms and carried him over to the cooler. Lifting the lid, that heavenly scent of blood and organs wafted coldly towards Will’s sensitive nose. He immediately squirmed then scrambled to get closer, out of Hannibal’s grasp, anything to get a taste that was so fresh. Not as fresh as his first time but whatever. His person’s cooking was good but this was right from the source. He could swear there was even a pint of blood in that glass dish with the secure lid in the corner of the plastic cooler. Hannibal manages to grab him in time, while he strained his pointy little snout towards the blood in particular, whiskers splayed full out to touch while his nose was delicately sniffing.

Hannibal let out a chuckle, “My thirsty little beast! You are not supposed to be down here.”

As he walked his little cat back towards the steep steps, all Will could do was crane his neck around Hannibal’s shoulder and strain his nose towards the delicious smells.

After dropping his charge unceremoniously out back in the kitchen, he carefully nudged Will out of the way of the pantry door with his plastic bootie-covered foot, closed it quietly, and went back to his post-kill work. He would have to consult with Jack in the morning on another Ripper kill and he needed his beauty sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Zeller finds a cat hair at the next crime scene and Price elbows him in the ribs and says “Pay up, disbeliever!” while smiling his fool head off, chin dimpling as he did. 

Brian Zeller frowns and grumbles as he reaches into his back pocket, gets out his wallet, and hands Jimmy a twenty dollar bill, while Katz looks on, smirking.

“Jimmy told you he was a cat person but nooo! You said he was too fastidious and neat to own pets. At most a reptile, you said.” 

Katz and Price executed at high five then, followed by a down-low backwards hand-slap that ended in a hand grip. The pair exchanged grins and let go.

“You, of all people, with the red-headed shedder of a feline girlfriend of yours, know how sneaky a cat can be. They shed on anything, even before you wear it, even on the highest shelf. Not even dogs can do that!” she finished. Then she turned and walked off to attend to their next unfortunate victim, already uncovered and laid out on the steel autopsy table, instruments at the ready on the tray nearby.

~+~

“So, Jack. We know now that he is a surgeon or has some kind of surgical training, at least, has a knowledge of Classical Western Art and Literature, and now, that he owns a tabby cat!” Bev loved it when she got to break the news to higher ups. Sure, the forensic team never got the accolades they should for all the detail work they slogged through, day after day, but she lived for moments like this. Behold, the power of trace evidence!

Jack’s brows shot up, as did Hannibal’s, slightly, though for entirely different reasons. “A tabby cat?” Jack said, incredulous. Hannibal stayed stock still, surprising calm displayed on his face after his microexpressive lapse.

“Yes. Possibly a recent acquisition, as this is the first one we’ve ever found at one of his crime scenes. And it is an unusual one, with longish, curling, ticked brown hairs. The curly gene is very rare; we could look for local breeders,” she finished, revealing her ace in the hole. 

That was Price’s idea, actually, but he was called away on a pet emergency involving one of his cats and one of his canaries this afternoon. The elderly neighbour lady that was his daytime pet sitter had been rather distraught when she’d gotten him on the phone. He’d gone home straight away to assess the damage and to calm her nerves. 

And since Zeller was being deposed in court this morning and it had also dragged on into the afternoon, Katz was all by her lonesome in delivering the big reveal. If this got them one step closer to catching The Chesapeake Ripper, Bev wouldn’t say no to that inevitable promotion. Nope. Jack loved it when his team came together. He would die and go to Heaven if they could help him finally catch The Ripper.


	3. Chapter 3

The next night, Will gets those familiar funny feelings and he gets anxious, not knowing what to do with himself. Hannibal, completely misunderstanding, picks Will up and says, “Do we need to get you fixed, little Will? You’ve already gotten most of your shots but you should be old enough to take care of that soon. I should call the vet tomorrow.”

At that, Will squirms violently, scratches Hannibal across the neck with one of his back claws in his haste to jump over his shoulder, and darts off into the house for parts unknown. He wrinkles his brow, slapping one hand quickly to his neck, feeling the freely flowing blood coat his hand. 

He calmly walks to the first aid kit in the pantry, knowing that rushing will only make the blood flow more quickly. He takes it to the guest bathroom by the front door and starts doing repairs on his neck. 

Did Will understand what he was saying? He knew he was intelligent but this was a little much for even Hannibal to believe. Though some strange things had happened during his childhood in Lithuania. But he’d been a young child and such things could be explained away. Still, Hannibal thought, still, he thought again, as he gave himself a local and then stitched up the deepest part of the scratch, there were things, at night . . .

...

Hiding in the guest room closet, Will panted and hid himself behind one of Hannibal’s small spare suitcases. Will had been around enough people and cats long enough that he knew what “fixed” meant. To assuage his anxiety and to reassure himself that all his parts were where they were supposed to be, he sat back and lifted one of his back legs, vigorously licking himself. All was in working order so he stopped and curled his brown, striped body into a little ball of anxiety. Girl cats didn’t seem to have much different about them after the procedure but boy cats were a different story. Parts were missing! Soft and tender parts. 

Like that human in that abattoir, Will almost cried out with the imagining of that kind of pain! How awful! Why was his person considering such a thing? He had always been so kind so far, even when Will was being such a handful. Maybe he was mad about the hidden basement still? Will couldn’t figure it out and was very afraid.

...

Hannibal searched in all Will’s regular hiding places but could not find him before he went to bed. Sighing, he resigned himself to sleeping alone for the first time in almost a month. What had set him off? Was he outside in the cold? 

Hannibal’s mind slowly turned to his other train of thought, his plans for the second of his sounder of three this time, set for the full moon tomorrow. The sky would be clear and if all went as planned, it would be the perfect backdrop for his latest tableau. One more, and he would have enough for that dinner party that Mrs. Komeda had been pushing for since last year. He delighted in her delight, rare for his tastes in humanity or at least company. So many people could be made tasty but so few had good taste. 

...

At sometime close to midnight, Will started to feel more and more funny. He wobblily left his hiding spot in the closet and jumped onto the guest bed. He knew what came next but still resisted every time. His body started to shiver and shake and he made little whimpering noises as his tongue hung out of his mouth as he lay on his side. His form blurred and started to expand, eventually turning into the form of a naked young man with light brown skin, curled tightly into the fetal position. 

Appropriate for the situation, he thought, as his transformations were like being reborn. While in human form, he had tried to teach himself so much. His human speech was still terrible even only in English with maybe a little of the cajun spoken down at the docks. But he had managed to teach himself how to read and was already at a Grade 9 level, good enough to read a paper, for sure.

There was much he could not understand, especially about technology and electronics, but he had a good grasp of food words and was doing okay with mechanical stuff. And he was getting much better at picking locks. Locks like the one on the pantry door . . . His mind was drawn immediately back to where that cooler of blood and organ meat was. If he could just get the door open, he could get to the meat. The good meat, the meat that satisfied his true hunger.


	4. Chapter 4

Hannibal woke, a warning feeling creeping up his spine, setting his nerve endings to jangling. He quietly slid out from between his expensive sheets, moved to the bedside table, quietly opened the drawer to retrieve one of his pencil-sharpening scalpels where he had hidden his drawing tools from Will’s ever inquisitive nose and paws, and checked the entire upstairs.

Aside from the bedspread in the guest room being slightly askew, all seemed to be in order on this floor. Twitching the spread back into place, he made his way silently down the stairs to the main floor, avoiding the nightingales he’d had installed on various steps to warn of intruders. He had searched everywhere on the main floor, save the kitchen, when he heard a noise filtering around the corner into the hallway.

Advancing slowly to the kitchen’s doorway, he paused before rounding it, listening intently and staring so hard at all the shadows that his eyes started reacting painfully. He blinked them quickly, refreshing their moisture before he needed them to confront the intruder. He had exceptional hearing, night vision, and an acute sense of smell and he knew how to keep them finely honed. It was his sense of smell that then struck him, as well as the sound of the cooling units in the hidden basement, that alerted him to the problem: someone had opened the trapdoor! Who? How?

Hannibal crept slowly to the corner, rounded it, and then walked carefully to the pantry door. Sure enough, he sees that the door is wide open, some small metal kitchen skewers and what not scattered willy-nilly near where it was resting. Lock-picking with kitchen implements? he thought. What is going on in his house? 

He leaves the small pieces of metal where they lay, and, avoiding the couple more nightingales near the trap door, sees that it is open. And he can hear . . . loud -chewing- noises? Hannibal’s eyebrows fly up to meet his hairline in surprise. Who breaks into the house of The Chesapeake Ripper, finds his murder basement, and starts eating parts of his prey? Hannibal’s indignation and anger take hold of his hindbrain and stiffen his spine, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

He pauses, getting a hold of his raging emotions. Someone had invaded his territory, someone with appetites like his. He needed to think how best to confront this . . . person. He gripped the scalpel in his hand a little harder, then slipped it into one of his pockets, quietly advancing on and then descending the stairs. He could still hear the messy chewing noises coming from the far end of the basement, near the cooling units, now punctuated by occasional slurping noises. He felt more than saw his way over where the light switch was on the wall. He flicked it on.

He sees a young man with dark chocolate brown curls, light brown skin, naked and thin, crouched near the open cooling unit. He is frozen, crouched over a pile of ripped opened plastic vacuum freezer bags and the now-spilled container of blood, his mouth and the front of his body covered in crimson gore, growling in a high-pitched whine. Hannibal pauses, sniffing the air, and comes closer to the muscular but lithe man, who has his mouth half-full of the kidney that he is chewing on with his side teeth. 

The man violently slaps out one hand in a paw-like gesture towards Hannibal when he gets too close, still knawing while his growl vibrates through his open and still-chewing teeth, fingernails biting into the concrete. That growl goes straight to Hannibal’s spine, having an entirely unprecedented effect on it. It is then that Hannibal recognizes those blue-green eyes. He drops his readied drawing scalpel to the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

“Will?” Hannibal whispers, in his rich, throaty baritone. 

The young man twitches and blinks slowly at him but still growls around the human kidney, finally freeing a sizeable chunk that he swallows down in one piece. Hannibal likes to eat people but he usually likes to prepare and consume them in a more refined manner. But he has to admit that there is something rather, stirring, about it being consumed in such a decadent way. It makes him recall some of his earlier years, a muddle of Mischa and revenge in his mind. His licks his lips slowly, savouring the parts he can remember.

Will continues until the kidney is finished, licking his lips and then his hands, cleaning them up a bit with his soft, wet pink tongue. Hannibal notices that he is getting hard inside his soft plain deep red flannel sleep pants. Will here, human, half-covered in blood, and eating the majority of his dinner party menu, has him edging towards full hardness.

Will stares at him for a moment, looking finally between the remaining few packages scattered in front of the fridge unit and Hannibal’s open but slightly pinkening face. He quirks an eyebrow up, settling back slightly on his haunches and sending Hannibal a questioning look. 

Hannibal moves to pick up the scalpel from where it fell at his side and Will responds by hissing at him, grabbing one of the closest unopened packets and retreating to a more distant corner to enjoy his prize. He still keeps his eyes on Hannibal, though, while trying to knaw his blunt human teeth through the tough plastic. 

Hannibal had noticed how the packages had been savaged. Human dentition was not the best tool for the job, so he went slowly over to the remaining intact packets and began to quietly and quickly slit them open. Will observed the other man’s actions, chewing more slowly at the package with the heart he had grasped tightly in his hands, comprehension coming over his feral facial expression. Slowly, he crept over to where Hannibal was surrounded by opened packets, good smells coming from all of them as the meat warmed the longer it was away from the artificial cooling. Hannibal had seen fit to close the door of the cooler, so now the whole room was feeling warmer, too.

Will slowly and carefully extended one hand with the still-wrapped heart in it towards Hannibal. Hannibal took hold of part of it while still letting Will hold the other part. He carefully slit two sides of the plastic open, causing the heart to slip out the bottom. Will caught it before it dropped to the floor between their two crouching forms, holding it between his two hands, using them like paws. He looked down at the heart in his hands and offered Hannibal the first bite.

Hannibal’s breath caught, breathing out “My beautiful, sweet kitty, Will. Thank you, mylimasis.” Will preened at Hannibal’s pet name for him, pulling one human ear towards his own shoulder, seeking contact and the petting that Hannibal had been so generously been providing but not knowing how to ask for it in this form.

Hannibal took the heart in one hand and put his other palm up to cup Will’s soft, lightly-bearded cheek, running his fingers through his now-human curly locks. Will leaned into the petting and closed his darkening eyes, rubbing his face into Hannibal’s hand. When he had had his fill of willingly-given pets, he opened his eyes and sat back on his haunches in anticipation, his naked form much more relaxed, now exuding a more sensual than fighting form. 

Hannibal obliged, taking a bite out of the offered heart, closing his own eyes to savour the taste. It was cold, of course, not as good as when ripped still beating from a living chest cavity but it would do. He handed the heart back to Will, who took a rather large bite of the muscular organ, juices from the warming organ dripping down his already gory chin. 

Hannibal couldn’t take his eyes off of the juices rolling down Will’s chin, licking his own lips in response. He was tenting his soft cotton pants at this point and Will had a sizeable hard on of his own, now very visible between his own darker thighs. When he went to give the heart back to the larger, lighter-skinned man for another bite, Hannibal grasped the offered organ but also leaned into Will’s front space, Hannibal watching Will’s coloured eyes widen as he licked some of the blood and juices off the corner of Will’s chin and mouth. 

At this, Will let out a soft sigh, tilting his head back to give Hannibal more access to the bloody and wet messes that were his chin and throat. Hannibal took the opportunity offered and ran his tongue in long, languorous strokes from Will’s collarbones, up and over his Adam’s apple, under his sharply defined but delicate chin, and up underneath his lips. He continued until Will’s neck was entirely clean. 

At this point, Hannibal had one tanned hand on the floor for balance and had gone to his knees before his little Will. The younger man was still crouched before him, obviously more comfortable in the position than he was. He looked up at Hannibal in wonder, which quickly turned to a darker lust for his human, colour now more blue-grey the wider his pupils got, boring into Hannibal’s own amber and roan ones. He had always liked his smell and now he knew why: he was like him! More human more of the time but still, like him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal get down and do the nasty.

After a short pause where Will revels in the new kind of contact, Will jumps on Hannibal, rolling him onto his back and squishing the remaining organs into their hides, their hair, and into the floor.

He rubs himself against Hannibal’s member, them both painfully hard and leaking down onto his sleep pants. True to his loathing of clothes, Will becomes vocally disdainful of the sleep pants between them, still frustrated by his lack of claws to shred them off of Hannibal’s hips. Fearing for the safety of yet another piece of clothing, the man shucked them off quickly, chucking them forcefully away from their bodies, knowing that things were not going to be gentle. He had only made love to one other were in his lifetime and it had been violent. He expected nothing less from his sweet Will.

Freed from the constraints of fabric construction, Will immediately ground his hips into the larger man’s, licking his neck and collarbones, following Hannibal’s lead. Hannibal had trouble catching his breath, so entranced by the younger man he was. He pushed up into Will’s undulations with restrained and controlled enthusiasm.

He slowly reached a hand between them, to hold their hard selves in his larger hand, lubricated by the blood and pre-cum and what ever other juices they had become covered in. Will moaned, loud and long, and rubbed their hips together even harder, pulling his member through Hannibal’s hand, pulling Hannibal’s along with his sometimes, rubbing past it at other times, slicked by the gore. Hannibal wrapped his other hand around the small of Will’s arching back, pressing the smaller man down into himself.

Both tried to get as much skin contact with the other as possible. After a few more minutes of slow grinding, Will started making a string of small bites down one side of Hannibal’s neck, pushing the older man to up his game. In response, he latched onto the muscular spot on the opposite side of where Will was doing his small damages, where neck met shoulder on the creamy brown skin. And then he bit down, hard!

Will took in a great breath and let out a huge yowl, exactly the response that Hannibal was aiming for. Will’s eyes met his, wild with sudden pain and pent up desire. He captured Hannibal’s lips roughly with his own and bit down, also hard, drawing blood on Hannibal’s upper lip, splitting an edge completely. Both’s movements became frantic against each other, both jamming their tongues into the fresh wound, lusting after more of the bright red liquid. Will felt his balls draw up, knowing he was close. He pulled back from the violent feast, lips dripping with gore, propped his hands up on Hannibal’s muscular shoulders, and let out one word only, from between clenched teeth: “Harder.”

Hannibal needed no more encouragement, clutching their members in a punishing grip. After just a few more quick rubs and strokes of hip and hand, Will came, his release extending all over the already-matted hair on Hannibal’s chest. Hannibal came right after, overcome by the new scent shared by his lover’s body. 

Will collapsed onto Hannibal’s chest, spent and half-conscious. He had barely experienced orgasms by himself and having his first one with another person was very overwhelming. Hannibal held his sweet Will, whispering, over and over in his low accent, “My good kitty! So good.” Will smiled into Hannibal’s chest as he fell asleep, half on and half off his person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will’s young. You were expecting an extended lovemaking session with these two? They are both cats, after all. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would your speech sound like if you were taught how to talk by longshoremen and women?

Will wakes up in the morning at dawn, agitated, mumbling to himself, over and over, “The docks. I have to get to the docks!” 

Hannibal, non-plussed, sticky and reeking of raw human meat that’s had at least six hours of time and their body heat to spoil and congeal, carefully un-adheres himself from the young man. After finally extricating himself from their tangled limbs, Will shoots, buck naked, up the steep stairs, blows through the kitchen, and pounds down the hall, and up the steps to their bedroom.

Grunting, Hannibal levers himself off their now-fetid bed of leftover organs and choice cuts, sighs, and follows his much too energetic kitty where he leads. The scent alone would be easy to follow, that is certain, unlike the cause of Will’s agitation and the source of his now boundless energy. He found himself trudging up his own staircases, lacking his normal verve but curious as to what, exactly, is going on. Was it too much to ask for a little cuddling? This was not normal behaviour for the affectionate young cat which he had gotten used to for weeks.

The sight that greeted him from where he stood next to his neatly turned down bed was appalling. Dirty human prints were all over half his wardrobe where Will had frantically been trying to find some clothes for himself to wear in his size. 

Unusually, his socks and underwear remained untouched. Will loved playing in those drawers in his cat form when Hannibal was getting dressed in the morning. Interesting that he had no use for them as a human.

And then there was Will, in the bathroom, standing naked and filthy, with a pile of random clothes in one arm, trying to make the shower work. 

“Hanimbal! Help me! I have to go to work.” He was almost in tears, shaking with frustration at not being able to make the water come out like he’d seen Hannibal do a dozen times already. He’d just never had the opportunity to do it with hands before. Observing was one thing but doing it yourself when under duress was entirely another! His big blue-green eyes threatened to spill their own hot water if ‘Hanimbal’ didn’t do something soon.

Finally understanding that Will had a day labour job at the docks to get to, he gently took the now ruined clothes away from the worried young man, tossed them into the laundry hamper, and grabbed Will, bridal style, carrying him into the glass-doored shower enclosure. He put Will, standing, down onto the tiled floor, and turned on the water to an acceptably hot temperature, then turned back to face his charge. 

Standing across from him, Will was having a little trouble figuring out how to time his breathing to take a shower, having never been exposed to this much tumbling warm water before in his life. His eyes were also tearing up from the chlorinated water, which he had always thought tasted funny. He knew enough that he had to get clean before being with other humans but was confused about modern home conveniences. A bowl of water and a rag were what he knew but God knew where he could find those in this fancy place!

Taking the initiative, Hannibal squirted some of his organic body wash onto the natural sea sponge he used for such purposes, and started to soap Will up. Will got a taste of it on the tip of his tongue when Hannibal scrubbed at the mess on his face and he started to spit and drool convulsively, much to Hannibal’s delight. His face even split into a grin. Will eventually caught on to his person’s amusement and said, “Not funny, Hanimbal! Ukk! Ahhfph,” he breathed and spit, trying to wipe the taste off his tongue with his hand.

Hannibal finished washing Will’s body down in a perfunctory manner, not taking time for such shenanigans as occurred last night but observing Will’s morning wood and extra arousal from being cleaned so vigorously. Later, he thought to himself.

“I have to be there by 7am,” Will said. 

He wasn’t quite sure about human time keeping but he understood the phrase for when work started and would ask people around him for the time if he thought he might be late. (Counting was still not his forte, especially in English.) Many would shy away because of his skin colour and often mismatched or ratty or soiled impromptu clothes but he would eventually get the job done, especially in the seedier parts of town where he seemed to fit in better, at least with his person suit on. His cat self got more leeway but then he’d also been a cat since birth, so that helped. He also understood “quitting time” and following orders and whiskey and beer but those weren’t until later.

Once Hannibal had gotten the mess off of himself and shampooed the hair on both of their heads, he got big towels from the rack and started to dry them off.

“I can do it, Daddy,” Will said, pushing the towel across his hair and under one arm at the same time, “I just didn’t know how to make the metal bits work to get the water out.”

Hannibal froze, realizing that he’d referred to himself as Daddy to Will in cat form many times. It felt a wee bit different when the handsome young human form in front of him now said it. He felt himself stiffen slightly at the thought and filed that small piece of information away for later contemplation. Will always managed to surprise him and when he put his person suit on it might actually be a more frequent occurrence. He made himself relax and turn the majority of his attention to the task at hand.

“I have to get to the docks,” Will said again.

“Yes, mylimasis, I know but you need some clean clothes before that.” He took a hand and pushed Will back through the walk-in closet outside the door to the master bath, and up to the built-in set of drawers. He took out a pair of briefs for himself and a pair of black socks, getting a set out for Will that seemed to have shrunk slightly in the wash.

He dutifully seated himself on the carpeted floor and tried to get them on by himself, succeeding with the socks mostly but getting both legs into the waistband hole somehow was beyond him. Hannibal tried to help, getting them on correctly but Will got squirmy and hissy with the tightness around his tender parts and peeled them off just as quickly. 

Hannibal went back to the underwear drawer and took out a pair of dress boxer shorts, to which Will took like a duck to water. He realized that Will was intelligent but that he had many, many holes in his knowledge of human life, especially domestic human life. He also wondered where and how he normally lived and just how he had ended up on his own particular doorstep that fateful night, since the docks were an half-hour drive away from Hannibal’s house on a good day.

Once they were both reasonably attired and their hair mostly tamed, they went downstairs for a quick breakfast, Hannibal using the French press instead of his elaborate machine for coffee. Will perched himself on a stool at the counter and practically gulped down the hot liquid. Apparently, coffee definitely was a dock thing! Hannibal mused, quirking up one side of his mouth with a tender look in his eye. They still had a little time so he quickly and efficiently chopped a few vegetables, cracked a few eggs, then sliced up some of the “good” homemade sausage into breakfast scramble, cooking it all up together in his largest frying pan on the stove. If Will worked on the docks, he would need a lot of calories for his day.

They sat down side by side at the counter, Will scarfing down his food and Hannibal actually hurrying for once. He got up even before Will and made Will a lunch. Of course, it was a fancy prosciutto sandwich on home-baked bread with pickled vegetables Will probably couldn’t even name, with an orange and a banana, all wrapped in a baking paper sleeve, before being popped into a bag left from one of the more up-scale bakeries in town.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Will said, rubbing his cheek against Hannibal’s neck with affection when he handed him the tasty-smelling bag of food before they left the kitchen. Hannibal felt that undefinable thrill course through him threefold more strongly this time, making him think that they definitely had to discuss this later. In a lot more depth.

~+~

Rounding the last corner before the building with the rusty white siding that Will knew, finally knew, was the place, Hannibal parked the Bentley off to the side of the street and cut the engine. 

“Thank you, Hanimbal.”

“I will pick you up this afternoon as well, mylimasis. When will you finish work today?”

Will frowned, wrinkling his brow, not sure how to answer. “At quitting time?” he hazarded.

“What does the light look like at quitting time, Will?” answered Hannibal, understanding, finally, that Will’s grasp of human timekeeping was another bit that he hadn’t learned yet. Since he was still under a year old in cat terms, he must not have had many full moons as a human yet. But he was a quick study and learned what he had needed so far.

“Ah, last moon it was pretty dark already, Daddy.”

Already half hard in his pants, Hannibal took a deep breath before replying, “Perhaps you should call me Hannibal when we are out of the house, Will. And it seems you work twelve hour shifts, so I will meet you back here at 7pm, or a little after dark. Okay, Mylimasis?” Hannibal stroked Will’s hair and down one side of his neck before shooing him out the door, having to lean across the seat to show Will how to open it from the inside.

Will nodded as he got out of the car, slamming the door shut a little too hard and wincing as he took one last look at his lover through the windshield before he walked to the line of mostly men standing at the corner, waiting to be chosen for work.

Hannibal watched until he made his way to the end of the line and then drove off for home, shaking his head at how much Will had learned in such a short time and wondered how he had survived this long by himself.

~+~

As Will approached, rough words greeted him.

“Hey, Meow! Got yourself a woman now? Fancy lady from uptown?” shouted one of the workers standing in line, pointing to the paper-bag lunch in Will’s hands. Will laughed, felt his cheeks burn a hot brown-red and looked down and then off at the building down the street.

Another one called out, “Little kitty’s got a Momma Cat now to take care of him?”

At that, Will’s blush deepened but as he walked past them all to the end of the line, many of them slapping him on the back and chortling, he realized that he did feel taken care of, for the first time since he was a kitten at his Momma’s side. He straightened his narrow shoulders when he reached the back, feeling a little bit more like he fit in now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The odd animal-type killings ramp up and Will tags along to a crime scene that morning. The Behavioural Sciences crew does not know what to make of him or the crime scene.

After a late evening dinner of etiquette class and table manners with the now-human Will, Hannibal got an unexpected early morning call from Jack Crawford. It seemed the killer with the bear or wolf had escalated, a couple, viciously mutilated, was found in bloody heaps of parts near the smoking remains of a bonfire on a frozen lake some hours north of Baltimore. 

Not wanting to leave the newly house-bound and swiftly-aging human Will alone in his again-pristine house, Hannibal brought him to the crime scene. He left him in the car with a few special snacks, a container of water the style of which Will was familiar, and with the heat running. 

Since he already had to quickly cancel his clients for the day, he had intended on taking the young man shopping for clothes once this consultation was over. At the rate Will had grown in cat and human form over the short time these few weeks, he might have to repeat the process next moon but so be it.

And proper steel-toed shoes and a hard-hat, and safety vest this time, instead of the ratty hikers he came home with. Will had retrieved them from their hiding place while waiting for work and they were in atrocious shape, one lengthening toe bursting forth from the toe box by yesterday evening. Will complained about missing work but Hannibal had insisted, making sure he compensated the anxious young man for the lost wages. 

Since he picked Will up right after work, he’d had no way to blow it on drinks and dinner at the pub with his co-workers so the young man was feeling flush with cash for the first time ever in his life. While Hannibal was out talking to all the pinky white people in the cold white stuff on the ground outside, Will had shown absolutely no interest in joining them. His shoe had a hole and he disliked cold, wet feet immensely, though more so in his cat form. 

The snow didn’t stick so bad with the moderating effect of the water at the docks but he’d had enough experiences with cold and wet weather to know better by now. Cold and wet could mean death on the streets so he remained cautious when he had a choice. And Hannibal’s car had seat warmers, unlike that nasty lady’s car, the one who’d seen Will walking down by the docks, thought the worst of him, thrown him into the back of her car, and put the child locks on the windows and doors.

She’d grabbed at his crotch, thinking him a young street prostitute, ripe for the picking and ravaging. Will had frozen physically, as many young victims of assault do, not knowing how to react to such rough treatment. Even if he had fought back, he wouldn’t have known how to open the car doors from the inside, since he’d never had cause to be in one before. 

When she’d finally unlocked the car and opened the door after a long drive, he’d unfrozen and bolted down the street, easily out running her middle-aged self, even without his hiking shoes, which he had secreted after work earlier that day, his feet then clad only in some flimsy canvas running shoes. She’d screeched like a banshee and had run after him but she’d run out of breath after a block, her perfectly coiffed blond waves of hair flopping from their styled locks. She hadn’t a chance in her fancy dark dress and heels anyway.

He’d run another three blocks without looking back more than a couple of times, feeling violated in a really icky way. He had eventually darted into someone’s front bushes and had fallen asleep in their shelter and that of the eaves of their house. 

As luck would have it, at midnight he changed back to cat form, since it was the end of the third night of the full moon. He was lost in the then-pouring rain and was wandering the streets in some rich neighbourhood when he’d spied the front light on at Hannibal’s house. 

He was so cold and wet by that point that he’d tripped and fallen into the water-filled leaf-strewn gutter while crossing the street, ending up with grit and leaves all through his soaked curly fur. He’d huddled there, under the knob side of the door until Hannibal had made it home from the opera. Hannibal, noticing something on his front step before putting the Bentley in the garage for the night, had popped back out to retrieve whatever it was. And, much to his surprise, that little dark bundle had been Will’s little cat self!

His human self, warm but slightly bored and sleepy, watched Hannibal talking to the big black guy in the nice coat and hat for a while before the scent of the food that had been packed got to him. Daddy sure fed him a lot, which Will appreciated! He was always hungry, though after the basement incident, Hannibal fed him the good meat at least three meals a day. He always seemed to know what he needed. Will had never eaten so much in his life; he almost felt satisfied.

He opened up the bottle of water and put it in the cup holder like Hannibal had shown him. Then he carefully got out the cloth napkin from the insulated lunch bag, and took out the sliced fruit and meat and put them on the plate. He knew how to use a knife and fork and chopsticks, too, but he hadn’t tried it on a small plate in his lap in a car before. Hannibal explained the seatbelt and he’d opened Will’s buckle before he’d left but he was still nervous and stiff in the fancy car. 

Hannibal had covered the seat in an old towel before he’d picked him up last night, for which Will was eternally grateful. He had been half-covered in heavy grease as one of the heavy duty mechanics had chosen him as a helper. He’d been working his way up from sweeping the shop floor and stuff and he’d jumped at the chance to actually touch some of the tools and parts. 

It felt right in his head, the orderliness of it all. He could tell right away what was out of place. He didn’t know how to fix it yet but that would come with time and experience. He wanted to get his hands on more marine motors, if he could. They made more sense than people did, that was for sure. Being around people made his head swim, except for Hannibal for some reason. He felt more like his cat friends did in his head.

Will’s thought was interrupted by a knock at the window. A tallish white man with a winter hat and a dark scruffy beard made a rolling motion with his hands. Will stared at him blankly, not having the foggiest notion of what he wanted. Some food was still on his plate and he didn’t know what to do with it. He decided to place it gently on the floor with the utensils rolled up in the napkin. He then opened the door to see what the man wanted.

“Hey, kid. Can you cut the engine? The forensic techs down the hill are getting a little giddy with the fumes from the exhaust!” said Zeller, wondering who the Hell this young guy in Hannibal’s car was.

“Pardon?” said Will, trying to remember the polite words his Daddy had taught him last night. “Da-Hannibal said I had to stay in the car?” 

“Oh, just sit back for a minute!” barked Zeller, getting into Will’s space, leaning to turn the keys into the off position. Will, feeling threatened and triggered by yet another stranger getting into his personal space in the confines of a car, leaned forward and bit Brian’s arm.

“What the FUCK!?” Zeller yelled, holding onto his now bruised forearm, freaking out Will even more. He managed to avoid knocking over the snack plate while bolting from the car, heading for the tree line up the shore from the snowy lake. The air and ground were cold but he didn’t care; adrenaline coursed through his veins and screamed at him to flee this time.

The ruckus caused almost everyone’s heads to snap to Zeller and the car, the injured man now standing awkwardly by the open pinging door as he was. Hannibal rushed up right away, asking what Zeller had done to Will, the young man he’d left in the car, one of his patients, he said. 

Zeller, taking another breath and making another curse, at which Hannibal frowned, said, “He BIT me!”

“Which way did he run?” questioned Hannibal, eyes already darting to the patchy forest between the lake and the road.

Zeller pointed up the road where they’d come from, rubbing his terribly sore arm afterwards. He muttered “The fucker BIT me!” to himself in bewilderment as the older man ran after his charge.

Hannibal set off at a ground-covering lope, finding Will’s non-snow-booted and widely-spaced running tracks fairly easily. He found him quite a distance uphill, cowering in some underbrush in a thicket. He would have to teach him how to cover his tracks in snow later. 

Now, he crouched down before his kitty, taking off a glove and putting Will’s cold-bitten cheek into his warm palm. Will rubbed into it, seeking comfort from his person after such a scary experience. “Dad-Hannibal! He got into my space and I didn’t know what he wanted.”

Hannibal listened and questioned, eventually getting Will to a standing position and starting to walk him back to the car. About halfway there, when the description of the lady who kidnapped him came out of Will’s mouth, Hannibal stopped and looked down at the young man and uttered one word in complete shock: “Bedelia.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise waiting on their doorstep when they get home, her sinuous, tanned self curling around Hannibal at every opportunity, making Will jealous?

After getting Will back into the car (and him finishing his interrupted snack), staring Hannibal’s restrained version of daggers at Mr. Zeller, and giving his sincere regrets to a very disappointed Jack, Hannibal got back into the warming car.

Will was looking a little less pale and cold and stressed by the time the doctor got back to the car and so he just got both their seat belts done up. He gazes into Will’s still-widened eyes for a moment before pulling the warm Bentley away from the lake. 

Will was pretty jittery in the first half of the trip home but eventually, Hannibal had rolled up his long coat and the younger man used it for a pillow against the window for a nap. Soft classical was playing on the radio station that Hannibal had chosen and both men were fairly relaxed when they entered the Baltimore city limits.

~+~

As he drove the car into the driveway, Hannibal noticed a rather tall, tawny-haired woman standing up from his front step next to a small burnt orange rolling stock carry-on suitcase. He thinks: are all the strays coming to my house this month? And then his face splits into a grin. He turns to a sleepy Will, still showing teeth, who returns his look with a groggy puzzled one. 

Turning off the engine and then pocketing the keys, he leaps out of his opening car door, running and picking up the woman in his arms. She sensually wrapped her arms up around his neck, scrubbing her cheeks against both sides of his neck before he lifted her up, backed down the stairs, and turned her around in a delighted circle. 

When he finally put her back down, they were both laughing, he hugging her to his side, her tanned cheeks aglow with pink. Will was now wide-eyed again but for a different reason. His immediate reaction is jealousy: who is she and what is she doing with my Daddy? Then he thinks, she just rubbed herself all over him—maybe she is another one like them?

“Will, come out of the car, please! Come meet my sister, Mischa!” 

Will fumbled with the interior door latch, his nose and upper cheeks pinkening slightly. He makes his way over to her, takes her right hand in his, and says, shyly, “Pleased to meet you, Ms Lecter,” before breaking the eye contact and looking at the bushes in front of the casement window beside the front door.

“And who is this handsome young man, brother? You haven’t mentioned him to me before,” she finished, admonishment clearly matching her quirked eyebrow in her look at her brother.

“Will has been a rather new addition to the household, haven’t you, Will?” said Hannibal, his smile still warming his voice. “Let’s get our things from the car and lock it up so we can properly greet our new guest, alright Will?”

Will, still a bit confused, as the good doctor had never mentioned any family in the weeks he’d been at his house, moved to do as he had been instructed. He grabbed the lunch bag and Hannibal’s coat, still rolled up, closing the car door carefully behind him. Hannibal took in their water bottles and locked everything back up, leaving the car on the driveway in front of the closed garage door. He wanted to waste no time in getting his sister fed and watered.

They all disappeared into the house, closing the front door behind them. As they did so, a flash of red hair came from a car a little down the block and across the street. A long lens camera swung down from the open window as the woman put the cap back on the expensive piece of photographic equipment. Her boyfriend’s attacker and the good doctor and the new woman were shaping up to be very interesting indeed. She shifted her nondescript car into drive and went toward the rest of her day, plans forming in her mind.

~+~

Once inside, Hannibal broke the silence first, arm still around his sister’s slighter shoulders, “Come, you must be hungry after your long journey from the home country. Let us get some food into you.” Ever the consummate host, he took her coat and luggage and put them away in the front closet, with a bewildered Will trailing behind the siblings.

In the kitchen, Will got a little more information about Daddy’s sister, while Hannibal prepared some food from the fridge, making a small plate of fresh hors d'oeuvres for each of them while putting something from last night in the oven to heat up.

Not following their fast conversation in their first language, Will sagged a bit, feeling left out, playing a bit with the food on the plate in front of him on the counter top. But after a rushed catch up, they switched back to English with a sprinkling of Parisian French. Definitely not the Cajun patois with which Will was familiar from the docks but he caught more of that than he did the other language.

“So,” Will said during a brief lull in the conversation where the siblings in front of him shared a gaze and a fond smile with each other, “She is like us, Hannibal?”

“Yes but she is more like me, only having to revert to feline form for the night of the New Moon. We hit our quota of human meat early, Mischa and I,” he said with a little squeeze to her waist but a small frown on his features. Her green eyes in her face were sad for a moment, too, looking into the distant past. 

But then her lips drew up into a mischievous grin, showing all her menacingly crooked little white teeth, strikingly like her brother’s own fang collection, while she locked her light green gaze on Will’s own blue-green one. “So, what else has my big brother being telling you about me?”

“Nothing,” Will got out, looking from one sibling to the other, still trying to process human interactions and having a lot of trouble. He looked away first, scuffing a socked toe on the floor, still uncomfortable being wrapped in clothes. “I didn’t even know he had any family. Right up until you were at the door today.” The corners of his mouth turned down a little then, giving Hannibal a pointed look, implying that there would be words spoken later.

Hannibal broke the silence first again, arm tightly around his sister again, “Come, eat up while I go get us all a bottle of wine from the pantry.” With that, Hannibal retreated to the reinforced wooden door, took out his keys, unlocked it, and disappeared, leaving the two younger people to get acquainted while dinner heated in the oven.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy cats!

The next few weeks pass quickly, Will working his third human day in slightly better clothes but with those worn-through hikers and still without proper safety equipment, much to Hannibal’s chagrin, since they had not had time to go shopping yet. He made Will promise that they would take his next turned day to get him an entire new wardrobe, including proper boots and safety gear. Will wanted better gear for sure but was wary of Hannibal’s taste in clothes. Will could not see how Hannibal could stand being wrapped in three or four layers of fabrics, with a tie no less! To each their own but that was definitely not Will’s style, not at all.

When Will did change back to his natural cat form, he was bigger, longer, and more muscular than ever, much to both siblings’ delight. They spent long hours playing with him in the backyard or napping with him in the house, all on the big bed in the master bedroom, curled up together, especially when Hannibal was home from work. Then he would be cooking up feasts, each with at least some of the “good” meat. It was one of the happiest times that Will could remember. Except for the nights where Hannibal and sometimes Mischa were out until close to dawn, that is. Sometimes, he even thought that they were giggling with each other when they returned, always with coolers brimming with meat.

~+~

Around midnight on the night of the New Moon, Mischa was in the kitchen and Will was coming down the hallway from upstairs to get to his food and water dishes when they ran into each other, both in kitty form for the first time.

They both puffed, hissed, and jumped back as they rounded the corner, she from the kitchen and he from the hallway. She walked sideways on her tippy toes in an instant fear reaction in response for a few seconds, even though she knew who Will was in kitty and human form; it was just kind of an instinctive new-cat thing. The tension in Will’s back went down right away but his fur, especially his fluffy tail, stayed puffed. Eventually, she stopped dancing around and his tail went down a bit and they started sniffing and looking at each other all over. 

Will finds that she smells really good to him for some reason, even better than Hannibal. She starts rubbing her kitty face all over his ruff and he can’t say that he doesn’t like it. He gets kind of carried away and so does she and suddenly they are chasing each other around the house. Even more suddenly, in the darkness of the undrawn drapes in front of the French doors, she stops, crouches down, and presents.

Will catches up to her and screeches to a halt behind her, a bit puzzled that his new kitty playmate is making an odd noise. Intrigued, he circles her slowly but excitedly, tension ringing through the air, and both their bodies. Will feels a strong and undeniable sexual attraction towards her. 

She continues to present and he gets closer and closer, never having been in this situation before. There were very few cats in the few blocks that he stuck to by the docks, as the rats were big and he was much smaller than the older, more experienced toms. He was kept away from their female cats and on some of the worst territory, with slim pickings for prey that he could actually catch.

When he smells her again, so close, his kitty hindbrain takes over. He positions himself over her and mates with her, biting down on the back of her neck as they both yowl and growl at each other from their respective positions, ears back and eyes open. 

The mating of cats is not a quiet thing and his Daddy Hannibal is summoned by the ruckus from the study, where he’s been winding himself luxuriantly against his wooden desk’s legs. Even in cat form, he liked to be near his books and drawings. He runs into the room with the French doors like a house on fire, hearing the loud noises of his sister and other, unfamiliar ones. 

Not waiting to pick up the scent of the cat on top of her, he throws his yellow-tawny much-larger body into him, knocking Will off of her and onto his side on the floor. Like the semi-feral half-Abyssinian that he was, he immediately drove his fangs toward’s Will’s exposed throat. Will managed to twist his whole body out of the way at the last minute, as he had managed to escape all the larger tomcats in his life so far. 

Hissing and crouching wildly and loudly away from everyone and everything in the room in general, his green-blue eyes a-gleam, he managed to startle both siblings backwards. This momentarily gave him a clear shot out the doorway and back into the hallway, where he immediately took his out, first scrabbling for purchase on the hardwood floor and then bolting down the hall, past the foyer, and back up the stairs where he came from. He darted into the guest room bedroom closet again, this time wedged behind Mischa’s suitcase and the spare one both. 

Meanwhile, downstairs, Hannibal went over to the tiny apricot cougar-like cat that had had her lovemaking so rudely interrupted, thinking to give her a lick and a nuzzle. She backed up and hissed at him, arching her back slightly and putting her ears all the way back, falling into a low-pitched rumbling growl. He froze on the spot, not knowing what to do. Had the years without seeing each other changed her so much? 

Hannibal slowly backed off, ears slightly back as well, going into the far corner to watch his sister while sitting primly on his haunches with his tail curled warmly around his front toes. It took some time but eventually her eyes were less wide, her fur stopped being puffed up, and her ears went at least back to the sides. She settled down on all fours, her tail curled firmly around herself as well. Eventually, when she finally stopped staring without blinking and then looked out the glass of the doors and pointedly away from him, he got up and quietly padded out of the room.

~+~

At some point, Will’s medium-length curly brown tabby fur settled again, his tail stopped looking like a freshly-twirled wool duster, and his eyes narrowed back down to slits. He curled up, nose facing the open-ended part of narrow space between the edges of the suitcases and the back walls of the closet.

Before too long, kitty Hannibal took his red-amber-eyed self on a circuit around the house, first around the main floor, with a pit stop in the powder room, as that was the toilet lid that he always left up on the night of the New Moon. No matter what form he took, Hannibal was always meticulously housebroken.

After doing his business and flushing with two paws, he trotted upstairs, seeking out the younger male cat. Judging by Mischa’s negative reaction to his interruption, Hannibal was going to have to accept that whatever Will and she had been doing in their cat forms was entirely consensual, not that he was in any way happy about it for a number of seemingly important reasons.

Hannibal’s cat form is a large, lean tomcat with those fetching roan and amber eyes, a heavier but still sleek male build, yellower tawny coat of plush thick fur with a black tail tip, ruddy pink nose, and strong paws. He knows he is a good-looking and capable cat. But Will doesn’t know it yet. He is still hiding in the closet, crouched on all fours in the very back.

Hannibal’s nose in cat form can smell his sister’s cat smell on Will and tracks him back inside the closet. Not fitting right into Will’s hidey hole, he squirms past the slightly open closet door, jumping on top of his sister’s case and padding over to perch on top of his spare one. Will looks up at him with wide and fearful eyes; Hannibal looks down at him with something else in his eyes. 

Will moves first, darting for the slightly-opened door to the closet and twisting his path into the master bedroom, ending up hiding behind one of the big pillows at the head of the bed. He always felt safer in Hannibal’s bed and now instincts and habit took over from his conscious mind and Hannibal’s possible anger.

Hannibal quickly followed, hopping heavily down from atop the luggage, wending his way through the half-opened doorways, and onto the foot of the bed. Will had only seen a flash of Hannibal’s cat self, right during his mating with his lover’s sister. 

He pokes his nose and an eye out between the middle of the pillows to see now. Hannibal’s reddish-brown eyes look almost black with the lack of moonlight and a very little of the street light reflected off of the neighbour’s blank wall into the room. He has a darkish strip down his muscled back, ending in a more prominent black tip of his tail, which is flicking back and forth now with interest. Will slowly pushes his whole face out between the edges of the four pillows, making full eye contact with Hannibal. 

Hannibal blinks slowly at him and then leaps directly towards Will.

~+~

Will looks at the large mass of fur, teeth, and fangs coming toward him and he darts forward with all speed. But he can’t quite clear all the pillows before one of Hannibal’s powerful forepaws flips him onto his back momentarily. Will’s momentum continues to roll him to the side and also near the foot of the bed, with Hannibal falling onto him from above, a tangle of two wrestling male cats ending up quickly on the carpeted floor. 

Will, darting his bared teeth out quickly while executing one of his mongoose-fast spinal twists, latches onto the back of Hannibal’s neck. Leaning on all fours over the bigger cat, he adjusts his bite slightly with the help of both forepaws and finds his trigger spot, pulling up like he’d seen his Momma do with his siblings dozens of times. Hannibal, already crouched beneath him on four paws, goes limp on instinct. Will tests the effect by dragging him and his prey forwards a few inches, which is difficult with Hannibal’s almost dead weight beneath him but he manages it.

With Hannibal at his mercy, Will mounts him and drives himself into his lover, for the first time in their kitty forms. All the tension and stress of the night flows into the act, the larger cat staying still but not quiet beneath him. It is over quickly, with Will crumpling to a heap beside Hannibal. Hannibal stays still for a moment and then reaches his head out and licks tentatively at the younger cat’s fluffy cheek, knowing there will be a lot to talk about when they are both human again at the same time. But for now, he is content to stay next to his partner’s exhausted form.


End file.
